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The soft breeze effortlessly swept a scattering of dry leaves along the cold concrete of the sidewalk in the dilapidated and abandoned town. Michonne exited the vehicle and did a quick scan of the surrounding area; it seemed safe enough, at least to begin with. Out of nowhere came two walkers intent on devouring anyone in their sights and wreaking havoc.
Michonne had come to wreak havoc of her own.
As they ambled nearer, Michonne unsheathed her sword in one swift movement and swung the blade. It sliced through the air, a quick glint from the bright sun reflecting from its smooth surface. As the blade struck the head of the walking corpse and removed the top of its skull, the creature fell to the sidewalk in an unceremonious fashion. Michonne then cut down the second as deftly as she had the first. She flicked her wrist and cleaned the blood from her trusted katana before raising her eyes to the sky.
Not long now.
She and her new friends made their way out of what used to be someone’s hometown and headed towards the wooded area. They listened to the seized radio signals and watched the sky while taking up vantage points amidst the sparse trees.
Soon thereafter, the sound of the helicopter cut through the relative silence. They were close. So close. She could hear the blades and the engine, almost quieting the sound of Rick’s voice as she had heard it through the intercepted radio transmission. He was so close. She had to trust in her new friends and in Rick’s skill for the next part.
Making her own quick transmission, she let her new friends know it was time to enact their plan. A sudden loud blast went off and the projectile made contact with the helicopter. Then another; then another. Until the chopper came crashing down from the sky. Adrenaline coursed through Michonne’s body; Rick’s voice stayed in her mind. She hoped that he had survived. Knew that he would.
His team sprang into action just as she did; they exited the crashed craft as she moved towards it. She incapacitated the first masked soldier, pulled the covering from their face, and then ran them through with her sword. She repeated the action again and again, until she came upon the remaining soldier trying to crawl away. They found their weapon, and she knocked it from their grasp. She quickly struck at them with her sword, but they parried the blow with their arm.
A forceful boot to their chest knocked them to the ground, flat on their back. Not wasting any time, Michonne grabbed the straps on their chest, pulled them up, and placed her blade to their throat. This one had given her more of a struggle than the others had. She would be happy to end their life to get to Rick quicker.
Michonne ripped the helmet from their head and her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes met intense blue and she stepped back. She faltered. Her own eyes wide with surprise; her heart racing in her chest so hard her ribs might crack open. Confusion filled those blue eyes a beat, and then something else. Something lamenting and mournful. Something she had seen before: Recognition of a ghost.
And then, relief.
It was Rick.
She had found him.
She removed her own helmet as the rain began to fall, interspersing with the tears spilling from her eyes. Her breath heavy, matching his, as they stared into one another’s souls.
He got to his knees, and then to his feet, never averting his gaze from hers. And then they fell into one another’s arms. They clung to one another as their tears fell.
“Michonne?” said Rick, his voice hoarse and shaky, as he placed a hand to her face. “Is it really you?”
“Yes,” Michonne whispered as she pressed her brow against his. “I found you, Rick. I found you.”